So, Kathy is evicted from her house because of a government snafu, and before said snafu can be unsnafu’d the house is auctioned to an Iranian on the cheap. Kathy is understandably cheesed, since the house was her dead father’s and her husband just skedaddled and her life is in shambles and, Scarlett O’Hara-like, all she has left is the land.
The Iranian, former Colonel Massoud Behrani, has plans to flip this house and move his once-rich-and-now-evicted-(parallelism!)-from-country-on-threat-of-death family back into respectablity so that his wife won’t be so wan and reclusive and so he won’t have to work two minimum-wage jobs just to make ends meet, but unfortunately he still has a sharp suit or two from when he was colonel so all Kathy (and her eventual policeman-lover) sees is a fat cat looking to make a buck, whereas all he sees is a loony Murrican who couldn’t pay her taxes. Prejudice, you will be the death of us all.
So! I almost put this down a mazillion times in the first half, because this wears my ass out. I love winsome romantic misunderstandings, but even those grind me down, and this had zero winsomeness and no romance except when Kathy and a policeman start badonking. Both Kathy and Behrani are basically good people, and I could see them sorting their rubbish if they could both just admit to each other that they had rubbish. But perfect strangers do little rubbish-airing, generally, and then gender race class differences etc. I am really just very tired. Maybe I will take a nap every third page.
And then shit gets real, life and death, like. And not Oh, I will die if I lose my father’s home, or whatever, but people ending up actually, literally dead. And I am clearly a sucker for action because I finished the book, even though the misunderestandings persisted in persisting and I sort of didn’t like anyone involved.
There are many peoples who love this book, and objectively I can see that has elements of good. It just wasn’t my cup of slow, burning frustration.